A Girl to Come Home To (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill
brother. “I’ll take my old comrades later. Just now I want to get home and see Mom. I didn’t notice who they were, did you?”
“No, I didn’t wait to identify anybody but old Ben, the stationmaster. He looked hale and hearty. There were a bunch of girls, or women, headed toward the drugstore, but I didn’t stop to see if I knew them. I certainly am glad we escaped. I don’t want to be gushed over.”
“Well, maybe we’ve escaped notice. You can’t always tell. We’ll see later,” said Rodney. “But there’s the end gable of the house around the bend, and the old elm still standing. I was afraid some storm might have destroyed it. Somehow I forget that they haven’t had falling bombs over here. It looks wonderful to see the old places all intact. And a light on our front porch. Good to see houses and trees after so much sea. And isn’t that our cow, old Taffy, in the pasture by the barn?”
“It sure is,” said Jeremy excitedly, “and my horse, Prince! Oh boy! We’re home at last!”
They did the last few laps almost on a run and went storming up the front steps to meet the mother who according to her late afternoon custom had been shadowing the window, looking toward the road by which they would have to come if they ever came back. Not that she was exactly expecting them, but it seemed she was not content to let the twilight settle down for the night without always taking a last glimpse up the road as if they might be coming yet before she was content to sleep.
In an instant she was in their big strong arms, almost smothered with their kisses, big fellows as they were.
“Mom! Oh, Mom!” they said and then embraced her again, both of them together, till she had to hold them off and study them to tell which was which.
“My babies! My babies grown into great men, both of you! And both of you come back to me at once! Am I dreaming, or is this real?”
She passed her frail, trembling hand over eyes that had grown weary watching out the window all these months for her lads.
“This is real, Mom!” said Jeremy, and he hugged her again. “And where’s Dad? Don’t tell me he’s gone to the village! We can’t wait to see him.”
“No, he’s here somewhere,” said the mother’s voice, full of sweet motherly joy. “He just got back from bringing Kathleen from her day at the hospital, nursing. He went out to milk the cow. Kathie, oh, Kathie! Father! Where are you? The boys have come!”
There was a rush down the stairs, and the pretty Kathleen sister was among them, and the kindly father, beaming upon them all. It was a wonderful time. And good old Hetty came in for her share of greeting, too.
And then the boys hung their coats and caps up on the hall rack, in all the glory of gold braid and decorations, dumped their baggage on the hall table and chair, and went to the big living room where the father had already started a blaze in the ever-ready fireplace that was always prepared for the match to bring good cheer.
Then as they sat there talking, just looking at one anothereven old Hetty having a part of the momentsmiling, beaming joy to one another, somehow all the terrible impressions, so indelibly graven in the consciousness of those fighters who had returned, were somehow softened, gentled, comforted by the sight and sound of beloved faces, precious voices, till for the time the past terrible years were erased. It seemed almost like a look into a future where heaven would wipe out the sorrows of earth.
Then, softly, old Hetty slipped out into the kitchen. She knew what to do, even if Mrs. Graeme had not given that warning look. So many times, dark days, when there had come no expected letters, and news was scarce and bad when it did come, these two good women had brightened the darkness by making plans of what they would do, when, and if, the boys did come suddenly, unexpectedly.
Hetty hurried to the freezing plant and got out her chickens. All the children home now, all the family together at last. And Hetty was as happy over the fact as any of the family, for they were her family, the only family she had left anymore.
And presently there was the sweet aroma of frying chicken, a whiff of baking biscuits at the brief opening of the oven door, the fragrant tang of applesauce cooking. Oh, it was going to be a good supper, if it was hastily gotten together. There would be also mashed potatoes and rich brown gravy, Hetty’s gravy, they knew of old. And there were boiling onions, turnips adding to the perfume. Celery and pickles. They could think it all out in anticipation, and Mother Graeme could smile and know that all was going on as she had planned. Little lima beans. Her nose was sensitive to each new smell. There would be coffee by and by, and there was a tempting lemon meringue pie, the kind the boys loved, in the cold pantry. The boys would not be missing anything of the old home they loved.
They had asked about the horse and the cow and the dogs, the latter even now lying adoringly at the feet of their returned masters, wriggling in joy over their coming.
They had heard a little of the welfare of near neighbors, a few happenings in the village, the passing of an invalid, the sudden death of a fine old citizen, but by common consent there had been no mention yet of the group of young people who had been used to almost infest the house at one time, when the boys were at home before the war. Of course many of the men and a few of the girls were in the service, somewhere, and there was a shadow of sadness that no one was quite willing to bring upon their sweet converse, in this great time of joy. Jeremy, sitting quietly, watching his mother’s sweet, happy face, suddenly realized that she had not ventured to tell them about any of their old friends and comrades, and he wondered again if she knew what had befallen Rodney. He wished in his heart that the matter might not have to be mentioned, at least not that night. There would be time enough for the shadow of a blighting disappointment to one of their number, later, but not tonight. Not to dim the first homecoming. They were there, just themselves. It was almost as they used to be before they grew up, when they were a family, simple and whole. Oh, that it might be that way for at least one more night before any revelations were made that might darken the picture!
He gave a quick look toward Rodney, sitting so quietly there watching his mother. Was Rod wondering about the same things? Of course he was. Somehow he and Rod always seemed to have much the same reactions to matters of moment. And this surely must have been a matter of moment to Rod.
Good old Rod! These first few days might be going to be tough for him. He must be on hand to help out if any occasion for help should present itself. People were so dumb. There were always nosy ones who asked foolish prying questions and would need to be turned off with a laugh, or silence. A brother could perhaps do a lot.
It was just then it happened.
The blessing had been asked. That seemed this time such a special joy to be thanking God for bringing them all together again. Father had served them all heaping plates of the tempting food, and Rod had just put the first mouthful in his mouth. Jeremy watched him do it. And then the doorbell rang, followed by the sound of the turning doorknob, the opening of the big front door, the entrance of several feet, the click of girls’ heels on the hall floor, just as it used to be in the past years so many times. For all their young friends always felt so much at home in their home. But oh, why couldn’t they have waited just this one night and let the home folks have their first inning? Just this first night!
A clatter and chatter of young voice, as Kathleen sprang up and hurried into the hall.
“Oh, there you are, Kathleen,” said a loud, clear voice that Jeremy knew instantly was Jessica’s. “Oh, you’re eating dinner, aren’t you? Never mind, we’ll come right out and sit with you the way we’ve always done. No, don’t turn on the light in the living room, we’ll come right out. Of course we’ve had our dinners before we came, but we simply can’t waste a minute, and no, we won’t hold you up. I know you must be hungry”
Jeremy’s quick glance went to Rodney’s face, turned suddenly angry and frowning. Yes, he had recognized the voice. His reaction was unmistakable.
In one motion as it were, Rodney swept his knife and fork and napkin and plate from the table as he sprang stealthily to his feet and bolted for the pantry door, carrying with him all evidences of his former presence at the table.